


THE UNA-THOR-IZED BIOGRAPHY OF EVANGELINE GREEN

by Lothirielswan



Series: The Collector's Cosmic Romance Saga [3]
Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers - Freeform, Guardians of the Galaxy - Freeform, Lost in space - Freeform, Love Triangle, Marvel Universe, Multi, Romance, X-men - Freeform, living in denial from infinity war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:38:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21873289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothirielswan/pseuds/Lothirielswan
Summary: In a world full spidermen, scientists in dire need of anger management, and mutants possessing supernatural powers, Evangeline Virginia Green faces a new crisis. Evangeline joins the Avengers on a mysterious mission to the moon, and awakes with no memories among interstellar saviors; the Guardians of the Galaxy. Evangeline must sort out her enigmatic past while facing the galactic perils of the universe out to get her. Join her on a journey full of gods, men, and monsters.
Relationships: Peter Quill & Original Female Character(s), Peter Quill/Original Female Character(s), Thor (Marvel) & Original Female Character(s), Thor (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Collector's Cosmic Romance Saga [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1647007
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	1. Sneak Peak #1 "Just Muscles. And Abs. Lots of Both."

—E V A N G E L I N E G R E E N, A V E N G E R S T O W E R, 2 0 1 5—

I finally realized why Tony liked large flatscreens. The living room suite of Avengers Tower was unoccupied tonight, which was rare: Steve loved documentaries, Clint enjoyed watching people contemplate buying extravagant houses, Wanda would kill anyone who tried to change the channel from the Bachelorette, and Bruce had a secret love for _ The Big Bang Theory_. 

The remote control almost felt foreign in my grasp. Spending time with any of the Avengers made my day, but alone time meant I could finally indulge in films or television shows without restrictions. I decided to go full range with my power, and settled for _ Game of Thrones. _**[Before you look away, Readers, NO, there are no spoilers to Game of Thrones as you read on. It’s incredibly vague, doesn’t talk or name any characters. Don’t stress. Love, fortune and glory to you!]**

I was thirty minutes in, trying to decide who would make it alive to the next episode when I finally heard someone behind me. It had been a quiet night, and I didn't feel like ruining it with an argument.

“Sorry, I didn't know you were here. I'm changing it,” I called out as I paused the show. 

“Are you sure? It looks interesting.” 

I turned to look at Thor. He smiled warmly at me and walked around the long couch to my cocoon of blankets. Thor sat down beside me, leaving little room between us. I liked his closeness—not just because of the ridiculous crush that I’d been harboring for him for years, but the implied friendliness of it. It was nice to be close and comfortable with someone; no boundaries, no professionalism. As Pepper’s niece, it was nice for someone to treat me like a person and not some reserved business workaholic. 

“I don't mind putting on something else,” I offered. _ Game of Thrones _ was so popular, no one in the tower really had an issue with it, but there was only so much fantasy some of them could take—and the Avengers witnessed enough dramatic deaths in daily life without the help of George R. R. Martin. 

“I like it. The cold and the creatures remind me of Jotunheim—not the fondest memories I have, but it’s familiar.” Thor replied, his tone slightly wistful as he relaxed into the couch. I offered him some blankets from my comfy makeshift nest, although I could feel his body heat through my layers. 

“Jotunheim? That's were Loki’s from, technically, right?” I said, glancing at him. 

Thor caught my gaze, nodding slowly. “Yes, you are a perceptive one. I'm surprised you remember.”

“I think it's cool, the stuff you talk about. The nine realms, Asgard, it's fascinating.” I said. I forced myself to look back at the TV. I usually didn't want to miss anything, but I found myself losing interest this time. 

“You think so?” He sounded miffed. 

“Yeah.”

We continued watching. I tried to pay attention to the dialogue, but I was too aware of the presence right next to me.

“What's Jotunheim like?” I asked as the scene on television was full of snow. “Is it as freezing as what’s on TV, or…?”

Thor grunted as he sat up a bit straighter. His voice was deep and rich with a unique accent. “It is—_was_—a realm of eternal winter. There weren't any trees, or woods—I don't think any life could’ve survived such harsh conditions. Mostly rock and ice. It was always dark, as well: blizzards were their sunlight.”

“Wow—I mean, I guess it makes sense. You have a mountain terrain, that fits frost _ giants _,” I said thoughtfully. “What about the frost giants, if it's okay to ask? What were they like—were they anything like those things?”

I gestured at the screen where creatures sprinted across the icy fixture. Thor hummed thoughtfully, “Hmm, somewhat. Anything the frost giants touched turned to ice...a dear friend of mine, Volstagg, made that discovery. And they’re tall, of course, but they didn't have blue eyes: frost giants are red.” 

For the first time in human history, _ Game of Thrones _ was forgotten. I was too intrigued in our conversation. Thor’s voice was thrilling to listen to, not to mention that the topics we discussed were bizarre. The only attention I paid the TV was when I changed it to _ Lord of the Rings _ as I asked Thor about orcs and elves. 

“Were there any kind of creatures like orcs across the nine realms?”

“What about dwarves? Do they stay on Asgard?” 

“When Mjolnir was created, were there other things made too, like the rings of power?” 

After many rounds of my questions, Thor smiled apologetically. “I feel like I am boring you with my stories, Lady Evangeline.” 

I sat facing him now, and most of my blankets were discarded to my other side, making a cozy barrier around us. His presence kept me warm. 

I shook my head, “You don't have to be so formal, Thor, especially with titles: you can call me Evie, or Angie, or whatever part of my name you prefer. And I'm not bored, I like hearing you talk about the nine realms and where you’re from. I think you're much smarter than you give yourself credit for.” 

The grin on Thor’s face stretched from one ear to the other. My heart started to race in my chest. “You flatter me, my—Evie.” 

“It's not flattery, it's true. You know so much about the universe—and not to mention, you’re one of the best fighters I've ever seen. Seriously, that takes so much practice—and you learn a lot from fighting things. That's how you gain experience in video games, you’d probably be max level in all of them.” 

As I stared at Thor, something caught me off guard. His face was turning red. Not just his cheeks; _ everywhere_, from his hairline to his beard. 

Did I just make the God of Thunder _ blush_? Was I hallucinating? I never made anyone blush that hard before, not even the few people I had dated. It was such a bizarre sight. Thor, a literal god among men, unfazed by alien armies and robot uprisings, was _ blushing_. Because of _ me_.

But the redness didn't go away. It lingered, like a rose bush in full bloom. I didn't know what to do: this had never happened before, and I would have never expected it. I forced my mouth to open and say something, anything. 

“Nat’s showed me a few moves for self defense and that kind of thing, but I wish I could do what you do. You’re really talented.” I said.

Dammit! I made it worse! The redness had multiplied like trees overcome by the vibrant colors of fall. 

Thor must’ve regained some sort of composure, at least enough to speak. “Evangeline, do you need furniture moved?”

My eyes narrowed. “No. Why?” 

Thor covered his face with his hands, one lingering on his chin to stroke his beard. “Such praise must have a purpose, I assumed.”

“There is no...purpose.” I said, confusion filling me as I tried to follow his train of thought. 

I still didn't understand as he stood and offered me a hand. “How about a fighting lesson?”

I blinked twice, trying to process where the conversation was headed. “Uh...sure. Sounds fun.” 

I took his hand and stood. We faced each other. _ Lord of the Rings _ was still playing, and it's magnificent music became background noise for whatever was about to commence. 

Thor smirked as he watched me. 

My eyebrow rose. “What?” 

“You move with such grace. The nymphs of Asgard would be envious of such enchanting beauty.” He declared.

Like karma, my face felt like a tray of embers. Flashbacks of the many times I had bumped into coffee tables, counters, doorways, and yes, even walls, came to me. 

“You remind me of them often, actually. Your beauty is so natural, like an earthen goddess.”

“Thor.”

“Yes, Evie?”

“Do _ you _ need furniture moved?”

Thor laughed. “No, but you’ll be the first person I come to when the problem arises. Raise your fists,” 

I did as he instructed. “Like this?”

“Yes, and your feet a little farther apart.” Thor closed the distance between us. His hands enclosed around mine, making my skin tingle, and setting them up a little higher. I glanced down to make sure my feet aligned with his. 

“Right, that looks good.” Thor held onto my hands a little longer than necessary. “Your hands are so tiny.” 

“Thanks?” I laughed when he kissed my knuckles, then retreated back a few steps. 

“You’re smaller than I am—”

“In my defense, everyone is smaller than you. And everyone is taller than Tony.”

“True,” He agreed. His tone was serious, but there was some lightness to it. “But to overpower me, you have to think differently. You have to find a weakness.”

My eyes scrutinized Thor’s bulking frame. “I don't see any weaknesses. Just muscles. And abs. Lots of both.” 

Thor smiled, and some of the redness returned. “Look harder.” 

My head tilted to the side. Then it hit me. “Your eyes?” 

Thor grinned. “You are perceptive.” 

I bit my lip. Thor was tall. I’d probably have to climb him like a vine to reach his eyes, and I ignored the voice in my head that giggled at the idea (which could've also been Wanda eavesdropping).

“Okay...what now?” I asked, tightening my fists. 

“Try to take me down,” Thor said. 

I stiffened. “I know this is going to sound stupid, but I don't want to hurt you, Thor.”

“We could continue our battle of compliments if you’d like—” 

I made up my mind and charged. I knew I was too short to reach him; Thor was massive. So I made a detour and went for the couch first, then pounced.

I yelped when we made contact. I wrapped my arms around his neck out of instinct. One of my legs came around his waist.

“Bad plan, bad plan,” My words were breathy, but not just because of the physical exertion. Thor’s eyes were captivating up close. They were a unique, popping blue-gray like a stormy sea. I took one shaky breath and my mouth was filled with the scent of him; something natural with warm tones and a musky aroma. 

“It was a good plan,” Thor insisted. I should’ve let go. My arms wouldn't move. My leg remained glued to his side, unresponsive, but completely aware of the warmth seeping from his body. 

“It was a well-thought advantage point. The Valkyries would recruit you for such cleverness,” Thor spoke softer, but up close, I could feel the deep vibrations of his voice. The unique accent that made me stop whatever I was doing and listen. 

Thor’s arms came around me, securing me so I wouldn't drop to the ground. 

“This is nice,” I mumbled. “The air’s a little thinner up here.”

We smiled. Thor’s chuckle was low. I continued, “You’re so tall...I’ve never seen you up close like this before.”

Thor nodded, and our noses brushed together. “Perhaps you should visit up here more often.” 

“Maybe if you could supply a ladder next time…”

“Yes. Of course, my lady.” 

I didn't dare look away from Thor’s face, but I could still hear the faint score of _ Lord of the Rings _. It was the scene where Arwen, the elven princess, admitted to giving up her immortality to be with the human ranger, Aragorn. For the first time, I appreciated how soft and soothing the singing voices sounded. It was like heaven. It was like staring at Thor, and sharing that gentle but happy smile. 

“Hey, uh, Thor...Jane’s on the line, bud. She’s asking for you.” 

My eyes widened. Heaven had dissipated. Reality sank in. Like a cool morning mist, burned away by the sun. 

Thor nodded mutely. His muscles felt stiff. “Please excuse me, Lady Evangeline...” 

Thor set me down, and I reluctantly unhooked my arms from his neck. I couldn't decipher his facial expression. He passed Clint on his way out of the room. 

Clint crossed his arms and leaned on the couch. “Good thing I came in and checked on you guys instead of Wanda. We’d be knee-deep in gossip for weeks.”

“Uhuh.” I glumly sat back on the couch. The cushions were cold, no longer holding the remnants of someone else’s warmth. 

Clint perched on the armrest. “You know, when Laura and I were dating, at some point I sat down with her and had a conversation. I explained that I loved her very much, and my job was very time-consuming. I wouldn't quit my job, but I sure as hell didn't want to leave her. Luckily, we were two very independent people, who kept in touch, who supported one another, and could still carry on with our own lives.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, shaking my head.

“ ‘Cause Jane didn't sound very happy on that phone. After they got together, Thor left her. Left earth. For two _ years_.”

“But they’re still together.”

“I know the sound of somebody about to deliver some bad news when I hear it.” Clint said. He was crossing his arms again. “Look, you and him...I’ve seen you guys interact over the years. There’s something there. Half the people in this tower have bets on when it's gonna happen. But is Thor really what you want? Can you live that kind of lifestyle?” 

Clint was silent, letting me ponder. Eventually, he stood. “I'm not trying to discourage you from anything, I just want you to make the best decision for _ you_. ‘Cause you’re the one that's gonna have to live with it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Hi Awesome Adventurers and thanks for staying with us! I would like to hear from you guys before publishing actual chapters of this story, but I would like to take a minute to explain what exactly this story will look like: with this specific novel, the events will sort of be out of order: there will be chapters on memories like this, and present day scenes with the Guardians of the Galaxy. Yes, it will be explained why and how this happens to the character, but I'll leave that open to your imagination for the moment. Bottom line: this is not your ordinary, chronological order, let's-bore-you-to-death-with-a-backstory-type novel.
> 
> Deadpool: Ahem, like my movie, ahem.
> 
> Author: Yes, thank you, Wade.
> 
> Deadpool: Actually, it's co-writer. That's right, readers: I own you hearts and the Author's Notes.
> 
> Author: Just please don't kill me like you did in the last series.
> 
> Deadpool: Right right...sure...yeah.
> 
> Author: ...
> 
> Deadpool: ... 
> 
> Author: ...
> 
> Deadpool: ... 
> 
> Author: ...Anyways, don't be afraid to share your thoughts! I must hear from you guys before posting more of this story that I can't wait to share! Love, fortune and glory to you!!


	2. Sneak Peak #2 "Pure Sunshine."

—EVANGELINE GREEN, PLANET C-506—

I stood with awe as I stared at the deadly spawn of mother nature. Tornadoes were supposed to be small—at least compared to hurricanes and other natural disasters. It didn't feel small. Wind ripped at my clothes. It screamed in my ears as it threw dirt in my eyes. 

Then the memories came.

I remembered sirens. Wailing sirens—I had heard them, a lifetime ago. Dammit! Where was it? It was a warning: terror had gnawed at my insides from the sound, anticipating the real terror I would feel later. And the twister itself; there was a sick familiarity to it…

My mouth opened and it was filled with stinging specs of dirt. 

_ Texas! I'm from Texas_. The impact of the name made my body jerk. That’s where the sirens were from. 

The cyclone before me twisted up in the air. More ribbons of white were entwining around the base. 

But there was more. So much more. As I stood there, watching, my body alive with adrenaline, I remembered _ him _. The one with blond hair and the huge smile. The blue eyes that stood out like stars in the night; the accent that made my knees weak. Everything was so unique about him. He was like the cyclone; intense and breathtaking and stood out against the serene surroundings.

_ Thor. _

I shook my head as I stared at the monstrosity attached to the sky, pounding on the earth. Thor could be dangerous; I never forgot that. I never forgot his job, his higher calling to protect the nine realms. I respected that part of him. But there was so much more to Thor than that. He was like a rare cloudless sky: that soft blue that stretched on and on, promising a perfect day. The warmth of the sun on your back on those days, like a comforting hug or caress. That was him, too. Pure _ sunshine _ . Strong _ and _ soft. 

The wind was tugging harder. I planted my feet and channeled my power over gravity, feeling my limbs grow heavier, more attached to the ground. My hair was all around me; lifted up, to the side. I squinted to see through the chocolate brown mess. I picked a strand away from my face, even though I knew it wouldn't make a difference.

If I stayed like this, and the tornado ran over me, would I survive? No, stupid question. Even if I could still stand with my manipulation of gravity, there was still the force of wind and whatever was flying around in there. No. I wasn't that careless with my own life. 

I peered through my eyelashes as the tornado inched closer. What if there was a flash of red inside? I slept with the God of Thunder—I remembered that much now. _ Would _ the winds tear me to bits? It all seemed too real. When Thor was in control, I didn't feel like the wind was trying to rip off my arms. My mouth didn't taste like dirt, and I could see more than this. This was too real. There was no Thor, no director of the symphony of catastrophe. There was no control. Just terror. 

“ANGEL—!”

Only Thor could make me ignore my impending doom. Quill’s voice brought me back to reality. The wind was harsher. The air was venomous with dirt. 

I searched to see where Peter was, only to feel his arms wrap around me tight from behind. His grip was strong. He took a step backwards, dragging me with him.

“Are you insane—? We gotta go! Come on—!” Peter spun me around, then took hold of my hand. We ran across the endless stretch of flat land. We chased the last tendrils of sunlight in the sky. 

The wind carried away most of Peter’s words, but his tone and the tight grip he clasped my fingers with helped me put the pieces together.

“What were you thinking—? Shit! Shit shit shit! We should’ve never taken this job—! Keep running!”

I glanced down at his boots. It was hard to make them out as we ran, but his feet were bulkier with the jet boot attachments.

“What about your boots!” My throat hurt as I struggled to be heard over the wind. 

“You wanna go airborne with that thing behind us? We’re better off on the ground,” The tail of Peter’s red coat flailed out behind him. 

“It was just a suggestion!” 

“Here’s a suggestion: don't stand in front of tornadoes trying to _ die_!” 

“I wasn't trying to die!” I snapped. Peter glanced at me longer than necessary. Only then did I realize that what he said was rhetorical. 

Peter pointed with his other gloved hand. “There!” 

The ground was starting to rise before us. Hope rose in my chest. It was a cave—sort of. More like a cliff, and we were at the bottom of it. The top jutted out just enough to throw shadows over the jagged wall, but it was the closest thing to shelter on this stupid flat planet. 

“Come on!” 

I wanted to glanced behind us, to see if we were actually being followed. I didn't need to look back for clarification: I felt the winds at my back, pulling at my strides as I ran. The tornado was still there. If I looked back, I would only slow us down. I didn't want to endanger Peter more than I already had. 

Peter and I skidded to a stop before the wall of rock. Some parts of the stone were protruding out more than others.

We looked back. The tornado loomed, an omen of death. I could feel my fingers shaking—or Peter’s. Or both. 

“It's not stopping,” He muttered. Peter’s eyes scanned the rocky fixture before us. “There!” 

There was a small wedge in the rocks. Peter pulled me into the niche with him. His features were dimmed with a shade of darkness.

“Here,” Peter’s hand went to his ear to offer me his helmet.

“No,” I swatted his hand away. Even in our makeshift shelter, I still tasted dirt in the air. The winds were drowning us out again, even as we stood close. “That's yours.”

“Angel, you won't be able to breathe—safety,” He claimed. 

“What about _ your _ safety?” I racked my brain for a quick solution. I glanced down. Underneath his coat, he still wore his red leather jacket. 

Peter followed my train of thought and nodded. “Right. Come ‘ere…” 

I grabbed a fistful of my hair and pressed my ear against his chest. Peter started to zip up his jacket around me, pressing us closer together. As the darkness gathered around me, I inhaled, and was relieved when I wasn't greeted with a mouthful of dirt. I barely heard the metallic click of his helmet being activated. 

For the next few minutes, I strained to hear Peter’s heartbeat over the shrieking wind. I could feel his chest moving rapidly beneath my touch, from each breath he took. Life was so incredibly vibrant, and death was so incredibly horrifying. The two shouldn't be allowed to mix. 

My face scrunched up as I reminded myself that I was the idiot who got us into this mess. I never intended to be _ this _ close. The memories were too overwhelming—and my stupid theory was literally flung to the wind. Thor couldn't control every storm. Nature was a beast. Thor knew how to control it, but it was still untame in his absence. And it certainly wouldn't favor me. 

My legs ached from standing and my throat was raw. Peter’s arms hugged me tight. My ears ringed in the silence.

Silence. 

The storm had ended. 

Again, I heard the metal trickle of Peter’s helmet. 

“Still alive?” I heard him croak. 

“Have to be. Too much pain to be dead,” My lips brushed against his shirt. Even with the tornado gone, his chest still moved up and down. I could hear his heartbeat. It was staggering. 

Peter unzipped his jacket and I pulled away. I leaned back on the wall to our secret niche. I pushed my hair back, still tasting dirt in the air. It made me sick. 

“I had a lecture prepared on how reckless and irresponsible that was...but can I give it later?” Peter’s voice was raspy. 

I nodded. “Sure. I have an apology to go with it.”

Peter leaned on the wall to our side. He massaged his temples. “I've seen a lot of things. But when I saw you there, standing in front of it...not moving...that was one of the scariest moments of my life.” 

I winced. “Yeah...I think that one might be in the top ten.”

I got a smirk out of him. That made me feel a little better. “I remembered something, during that disaster.”

He looked at me expectantly.

I smiled, “I'm from Texas.” 

Peter laughed. It sounded wounded after all we’d been through, but it was sincere. “That explains it. Only girls from Texas stare down twisters like that. That means we’re neighbors.”

“We are?”

“Yep. Born and raised in Missouri.” Quill winked dashingly at me, his hair above him in a hazy mess. 

“We’re not neighbors, Texas and Missouri aren't even next to each other.” I replied, crossing my arms.

“They’re close! Gotta give me that, it's been years since I’ve looked at a map of Tera. It's a wonder I remember, but you Texans always liked to stand out in history.” 

I shrugged. “We love whiskey and the second amendment. It's our charm.” 

“Ha!” Peter was grinning now. “What do you say, Texas? We done with Tornado Alley for one day?”

“Unless you wanna go another round, Missouri.” 

Quill shook his head with disbelief. “Texans.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi Awesome Adventurers and thanks for tuning in! This is our last sneak peak, but I still need to hear from readers before I start publishing, so PLEASE share your feedback. Your words are powerful, and I'd love to hear them. It doesn't have to be specific, it just has to be you. Thank you for reading, and if we get some comments, we will start publishing the actual story. Love, fortune and glory to you!!


	3. "Don't Bite the Unconscious"

—E A R T H ’ S M O O N— 

My breath kept fogging up the glass like a murky layer of frost. It matched the ashy surface of the ground, barren and desolate like a wasteland. The sky was an eternal night. 

“Some view, huh?” Tony’s voice crackled through my coms. 

I looked at the earth. It was an unbelievable sight. And the longer I stared, the more I knew that this moment would forever be engraved into my memory. A trip to the moon. Visiting the stars. 

“I dunno, man. I prefer it the other way around—look at this place. Christ!” Clint replied.

“What? The ground’s not fertile enough for farming? I could make some suits for your chickens.” 

“Not Clint’s murder chickens.” Scott’s voice wailed through the coms. 

“He named one after each of us, and when someone pisses him off, the head gets ripped off—Tony’s chicken gets replaced every week.” Sam said. “As the second member of this team associated with a bird, I gotta admit: that’s pretty far out there, man.” 

“Not farther than _ this_.”

I wandered a little farther. Sometimes I could feel my feet leave the ground, my entire body rising. For a split second panic would set in. Adrenaline would spike. And then I landed, smiling from the rush. 

“What do you think, Angie? Expand your business to the moon, I'm sure aliens would love your cupcakes.” Natasha said. 

“No! You can't take away our free stash of cupcakes forever!”

“We will fight you, Natasha—we’ll lose, but we’ll still fight you…! I would go back to jail for those cupcakes…”

“Aww, Scott, that's sweet...sort of.” My face scrunched up a little. 

The darkness stretched on endlessly. It's ongoing existence was mind blowing. I froze as something jumped in front of me. 

Thor didn't need the highly advanced suit that Tony made; just an oxygen mask. If his hair was still long, I imagined it would float around him, like he was underwater. He still managed to be a pocket of sunlight in a dead void.

“Evangeline,” He reached for my hands. My feet were dangling from the ground again. “I would say ‘I love you to the moon and back,’ but it's not far enough.” 

“AWWWWWW!” The Avengers, but mostly the cryptic romantic Wanda, wailed into our coms. 

“Crap, that's a good one: gonna use that on Laura.”

“Don't you dare—! I need to redeem myself with Hope.”

“What did you say this time, Christmas ornament?” 

Thor’s left eye twitched as Scott continued. 

“Okay, so I'm doing magic tricks to impress Cassie, right? So I'm pulling this long ribbon out of my mouth, but then it gets stuck. Then Luis drives me to the hospital in his van, still choking on the ribbon—”

“I really hope that's as embarrassing as this story gets.” Bucky muttered.

“We get to the hospital and they knock me out, the doctor’s giving me hell for actually putting something that long in my mouth—”

I was surprised T’Challa cared enough to comment. “Are you supposed to do it that way? I didn't think you actually put the ribbon in your mouth—”

Thor kept trying to stare at me in a romantic way, eyes twinkling, clasping my hands. But Scott’s story continued. 

“Moving on! Doctor’s giving me hell, Hope comes in the room with this judgy look. Then they give me ice cream, because I was so good, and when I start eating the ice cream, I start _ choking _ on _ it_. For the past two weeks, Hope has been showing me these kiddy games three-and-up, and she’ll shake her head and say, ‘nah, too much of a choking hazard.’ ”

“Scott,” Thor cut in, his tone light, smile friendly, and yet I knew he was annoyed. “Angeline and I are having a moment, and you’re ruining the mood.” 

I could imagine Scott’s eyes bugging out of his head. “Sorry, man! So sorry—I do that enough with my own relationship. I'm just gonna shut up now…”

Thor and I waited anxiously.

“...the _ lip _ is _ zipped… _”

Thor’s forced smile became slightly murderous.

“...the _ wizard _ stays _ in _ the _ blizzard… _”

“Scott.” I spoke this time. “Scott, sweetie.”

“Sorry.” 

Bucky cut in. “Why the hell would a wizard be in a blizzard?”

“SHH!” Wanda shushed everyone. “COME ON, PEOPLE! I MISSED THE BACHELORETTE LAST NIGHT BECAUSE STEVE WANTED TO WATCH THE NAZI WEEK SPECIAL ON THE DOCUMENTARY CHANNEL. IT’S _ ALWAYS _ NAZI WEEK. I AM GOING THROUGH WITHDRAWALS HERE. LET ME EAVESDROP IN PEACE.”

My eyes widened. Thor and I exchanged a look. Nothing ruined romantic tension like Scott and Nazis. 

“Sorry,” Wanda cleared her throat, “please continue...whatever it is you guys are doing...I don't even remember, I'm not listening. I don't care at all...but if I did, I think someone should say something sappy. Preferably Thor.” 

There was one pro to no gravity: as I slowly bobbed up and down, I could finally reach Thor’s height. I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I love you, too, Sunshine.” 

—P E T E R J A S O N Q U I L L, S P A C E—

“So, who are they?” 

Everyone studied the person on the table. There wasn't much to see: they were wearing this black suit with a tinted glass helmet. 

Gamora caught my gaze and jut her chin out at the head. “Can you remove that so Mantis can wake them up?” 

“I should,” I leaned over the glassy surface, catching my own reflection in it. I bared my teeth to make sure there wasn't any food sticking out and Gamora rolled her eyes. 

“Quill, looking at your own face ain’t gonna make it any better. It's just gonna scare the poor jerk on the other side,” Rocket rolled his eyes. 

“Better my face than yours. You’d probably kill someone with one look.”

“I've seen corpses more appealing than both of you.” Nebula’s raspy voice came from the corner. The wallflower didn't have much to say, except for death threats and insults. Nebula fit right in with the Guardians. 

I shook my head and looked back at the body. “Wait, there’s a name tag,” I murmured as I looked at the little white rectangle on the shoulder. The sides looked like they were torn off. 

“Angel,” I read off the only part that was legible. 

“But angels do not wear black suits.” Drax’s piercing eyes, light blue and freaky like that old _ Poltergeist _ movie, flit over the person lying on the table. 

“Sure they do. They’re called _ Charlie’s _ Angels,” I scoffed and started to feel around the helmet. The weird fabric-metal dipped around the side of the face. Something clicked. 

The black suit retreated, the obsidian crawling back, kinda like that old episode of Scooby Doo with the tar monster. The tinted glass melted and everything was sucked up into this earpiece. When the suit was gone, a sweet scent wafted into the air.

It was a girl. She was human—or looked human, anyway. Her face reminded me of the Disney princesses back on earth—like Jasmine. She had the coppery skin tone and chocolate curls slightly lighter than Jasmine’s. Her cheeks were round and full. She was earthy-looking. But the girl’s eyes were closed. Even when she was sleeping, the girl had this regalness to her. Like Sleeping Beauty.

“What's that smell?” Rocket sniffed the air, his whiskers twitching. “I smell food. Does she have food? Is she edible?” 

“Rocket, don't bite the unconscious.”

“But she smells like a dessert!”

Sleeping Beauty wore this blue shirt with faint circle designs. Jeans—she _ was _ from Earth. I liked her rubber rain boots. And that smell...it was familiar, something from years ago. I forgot the name. It pissed me off when I couldn't remember stuff. Freaked me out a little too, but I wouldn't tell anyone that.

“Mantis, wanna flip over the tarot cards for us?” I stepped back as one of our newest members came forward. Mantis always stood up straight, hands folded, speaking in a fairy-like tone. I wondered if _ he _ made her do that. 

“There are no cards on the ship.”

“That wasn't what I...what’s she feeling, Mantis?” 

Mantis placed a hand over Sleeping Beauty’s forehead. Her antennae started to glow, and she leaned in. “She is...scared. Confused. She does not understand what has happened…”

My eyebrows furrowed as I stared at Sleeping Beauty’s face. “...She feels alone.”

Gamora and I exchanged a look across the table. Her arms were crossed. She nodded once. “Wake her up, please, Mantis.” 

The ship leaned forward in anticipation. 

Mantis bowed her head, and the glow from her antennae grew. “Wake up.” 

I frowned after a few seconds. Mantis knew what she was doing, we played pranks on half the crew with her abilities. She was quick.

A minute passed.

Mantis’ forehead was covered in wrinkles. “Wake up.” 

Still nothing. _ Maybe if I kissed her? Worked for Sleeping Beauty. Gamora might slap me, though. After the break up, it's been...weird. _

“It's not working,” Mantis said. 

“You could make Ego take a nap. What’s so special about this broad?” 

I shot Rocket a look. “She’s not a _ broad_.” 

“Oh, excuse _ me _ Mr. Expert-on-strangers. What, you got a crush on the new chick we found floatin’ around space?”

“It's not a _ crush_. It's called bein’ polite and not calling people rude names.” 

“Woah! Quill, who would burst into flames if he stepped on holy ground, suddenly becomes a saint! Mantis, check him, prove he has the hots for that chick!” 

“Will both of you shut up?” Gamora glared at both of us. “What do we do now? She was just...floating. We don't know anything about her. No hint of origin.” 

I stared at her face. Her eyes were still closed. I wondered what color they were. 

I made myself look away. “Wait for her to wake up, I guess. Mantis, keep trying to work your magic. As for the rest of us...no drawing on her face.”

“And Quill shouldn't be left alone with her.” Rocket replied. 

I scoffed. To my shock, the rest of the ship hastily agreed. 

“Fine. Everybody stays on their best behavior.” I said as the Guardians lost interest and started to wander to different parts of the Milano. One person remained. 

Gamora walked along the edge of the table, analyzing Sleeping Beauty. Gamora always had a serious look on her face, but it had softened somewhat over the years. She almost looked peaceful when she was helping Groot treat the potted plants and listening to tunes as she stared out the window. 

“She looks Terran,” Gamora said, laying a hand gently on top of Sleeping Beauty’s arm. 

I looked down at my shoes. “We’re nowhere near Earth.”

“You’re right. That makes it even more suspicious.” Gamora tucked a pink curl behind her ear, but something weird happened. Her hair started to float in the air, spreading out like I had turned off the artificial gravity. But that was the thing: the artificial gravity was _ on._

Gamora took a step back from Sleeping Beauty. Her hair fell back onto her shoulders. 

“Who _ is _ she?” 

Something slipped out of Sleeping Beauty’s pocket and hovered in the air. I snatched the glossy rectangle as it glided in the air. There was a mark shaped like an apple on the back. I pressed a button on the side. The rectangle lit up with a picture of Sleeping Beauty smiling with some dude. I frowned. 

I slipped the device into my pocket. 

“I have no idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deadpool’s Note: Hello there, Wade’s Delicious Angels! Have we got a treat for you, it’s not just the cupcakes that are yummy in this story. I’m your author—
> 
> Author: Co-Author. 
> 
> Deadpool: Author! The Thelma to my Louise, how are you—? You’re just words, so I can't tell. 
> 
> Author: We are fantastic! Welcome, readers! We’re so excited to share this new adventure with you! We’ll probably stick to Evangeline’s point of view for most of the story, but I thought it’d be cool to see things from Peter’s POV before we hit it off.
> 
> Deadpool: I gotta say, Author. I’ve known you for a while, now...we’ve been through a couple of fanfics together—
> 
> She-Hulk: You tried to kill the Author and take over the novel.
> 
> Deadpool: Break someone else’s walls, Walters. As I was saying, I’ve known you for a while, Author, and I was gonna say—
> 
> Author: I'm losing my touch, aren't I? O.o
> 
> Deadpool: I’d sign up for one of Dopinder’s confidence podcasts if I were you, Wordsy Wendy. 
> 
> Spider-Man: I think it’s great, Ms. Author! I like it c: 
> 
> Author: Oh, Petey, you are the sweetest c: 
> 
> Wolverine: Eh, ‘think the one that should be in a mental hospital is right, bub. Nazis? Murder chickens? You used to be funny, Author, like smoke-coming-out-of-my-ass funny. 
> 
> Deadpool: Uh, those were MY ideas, Michigan’s mascot. 
> 
> Author: What if I’m not funny anymore…? OH MY GOD-NESS WHAT IF I’VE LOST MY TOUCH? WHO AM I??
> 
> Deadpool: GET IT TOGETHER, WOMAN. YOU ARE LOTHESWAN, THE AUTHOR WHO CAME UP WITH THE IDEA OF THE MUTANT PURGE
> 
> Wanda Maximoff: EXCUSE ME
> 
> Deadpool: Moving on! Listen to Kesha, lady! You got this! If all else fails...we bring in the big guns...and we’ll leave the readers with that steaming heap of foreshadowing until the next chapter. 
> 
> Author: Oh Wade :3 love, fortune and glory to you, Awesome Adventurers!!


	4. "Captain America's Godly Ass"

—A N G E L—

_ “Twenty-six miles across the sea, _

_ Santa Catalina is a-waitin’ for me, _

_ Santa Catalina, the island of romance, _

_ romance, romance romance.” _

I jerked as my lungs filled with air. My eyes snapped open. I squinted at the bright lights on the ceiling. 

I sat up and took in the unfamiliar room. There was a vastness of metal. The walls groaned in an unsettling way. A song was playing, and in between lyrics, an eerie whine echoed across the room. 

_ Where the hell am I? What happened? _

I turned to the side and my legs dangled off the side of the table. My mouth opened to call for someone, but the sound died in my throat. 

The room was dimly lit and full of new smells. I caught sight of a window. 

I started walking towards it. I felt very aware of myself as I did so. I noticed every time my shoulders rose and fell when I breathed. I felt the coldness of the room, pressing against my arms, caressing my fingers. I noted each step I took towards the glass. 

_ “It seems so distant, twenty-six miles away, restin' in the water serene. _

_ I'd work for anyone, even the Navy, who would float me to my island dream.” _

I stopped in front of my reflection. I would’ve completely ignored my doppelganger if I hadn't noticed the glare of light coming from my head. I lifted up a strand of hair. It was glowing a pale yellow. That didn't seem right. 

I focused on the other view before me. It wasn't the sky I remembered. For some reason, I thought of a completely black sky: lifeless, like a void. This one was different, sort of: splashes of bright yellows and greens. There was a murkiness to it, almost a texture. There was something about the green. Something on the tip of my tongue—

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty.” 

I looked away from the glass. Someone leaned casually against the metal walls. He was blond. That reminded me of someone. A smile. Sunshine? 

“You’ve been out for two days. I’m Peter, Peter Quill. Some people call me Star-Lord—”

“Who am I?” 

The man pulled himself up off the wall and closed the distance between us. He wore a crimson jacket. Crimson. Red hair? Witches?

“You’re on my ship, it’s called the Milano—”

“That's not what I asked.” I said. My voice sounded hoarse. I met his gaze head on. “_Who _ am I?” 

—N E W Y O R K, 2 0 1 5—

“Hi. The name’s Pool, Dead. I'm your new neighbor, the sexy guy always dressed in red. Kinda like Santa Claus except the presents are questionable compliments and detached body limbs.” 

I blinked as I stared at the man in the red and black suit, holding up a homemade mac and cheese casserole. “Uh...hi. I'm Evangeline. Please feel free to shorten that mouthful whatever way you like.”

“Well we all know that, unless the readers have more _ cocoa _ than I do,” The man in red insisted. 

“I have no idea what that means, but I find it hard to believe.” I said.

The corridor of the apartment complex was a lifeless gray, full of moist air and stains I didn't want to identify. I opened the door a little wider, “Would you like to come in?” 

“Yeah, let’s see what dark secrets you’re hiding—holy _ shit _ casseroles.” My neighbor whistled as he looked around the small apartment. Unlike the hallway, it was brightly painted. I had started tending to some flower pots around the window. The smell of cupcakes lingered from the ingredients scattered across the kitchen island. Across the room, a small section of photos hung on the walls. 

“Toto, we’re not in shit-town anymore. Looks like Disney World puked itself all over the room,” My neighbor whistled, wandering around the tiny space. He turned back to look at me. “So who _ are _ you?” 

My eyebrow rose as I leaned on the kitchen island. “Says the person wearing a mask?”

“Trust me. That's my way of being neighborly. Let’s talk about you,” He sat on the long cushioned bench near the windowsill, kicking his legs up as he lounged. “Why did somebody pass up living in Avengers Utopia with Captain America’s godly ass for _ this_?” 

“How’d you know I had ties with the Avengers?”

“ ‘Cause they’re on the book cover. And they’re tagged in the story—aww, you have tons of cute photos of them over here. Should’ve opened with that. Bad Deadpool.” 

I walked over to the hall of frames with him, looking over all the pictures. “I like my independence, so I wanted my own place in case I needed somewhere to escape to. I still spend most nights over at the Compound, though. That’s my aunt, Pepper…”

“And there’s your big chunk of meat, Chris Hemsworth—I mean Thor.” The man in red coughed and seemed annoyed with himself. 

“He's not _mine_,” I said. The comment made me more uncomfortable than it should have.

"Right, we're not to that part in the timeline yet. Wow, these flashbacks are slow." My visitor lost interest in the photos and started looking around again. 

“That’s right, it’s all normal, all ordinary—EVERYBODY HOLD ON A DAMN SECOND.” Deadpool shot up with a gun in his hands that I kept by my dresser. 

My eyes narrowed. “I live next to _ you_, of course I have a gun.”

My neighbor shrugged. “Okay, that does make sense.”

“...And I’m from Texas.”

—*—

“So you have no memories. None, zip. At all, whatsoever,” Peter and his crew stood around the table, staring at me. 

I grimaced. “No, I got nothing. Sometimes I get flashes...this familiar feeling...then it's gone.”

“And you don't know why you were floating around in the empty vacuum of space?” Rocket said. His brown eyes reminded me of someone, but I couldn't place it. 

“No, not a clue.”

“And you have no idea why _ this _ is happening?” Gamora pointed to something in midair. It was a pen—or looked like one, anyway. The point was dull like a stylus. It was just...floating there. Teetering back and forth. When the ship was quiet enough, there was a silvery hum, like the sound of a piano key being hit without the impact of pressing it. I’d never heard it before. 

My eyebrows furrowed. “I don't remember how I was before, but I think I should make peace with the fact that things have changed.” 

Quill smirked. “Got that right.”

The one with the big eyes, Mantis, who reminded me of caterpillars, pouted at her team. “Can we keep her? I don't want to be the newbie anymore, and no gravity is fun!” 

The one called Drax that disliked shirts squinted at me. “Quill, this girl is tiny and weak-looking and has the widest eyes I have ever seen...but she would make a decent night light.” 

That seemed like the closest I would come to a compliment with Drax. I chose to stay quiet and not respond. 

“Do you wanna join us?” Peter’s eyebrows rose and I heard a tinge of hope in his voice. 

“As long as I'm not inconveniencing anyone, I don't really have anywhere else to go,” I said.

—T H E Q U I N J E T R E M A S T E R E D, 2 0 2 0—

“You’re sure I'm not getting in the way of anything you guys need to do?” I asked Steve as he slipped on his earpiece. “I usually don't come with you all on missions.”

“To be honest, Angie, I'm relieved that you’re joining us. You’ll bring a little bit of home to…” We looked out the window to the new enhanced Quinjet T’Challa had gifted to the team. The moon was larger now. Half of it was bathed in darkness. 

Steve sighed. “You’re one of us. You saved our asses cleaning up the Accords—”

“Dollar in the jar, Capsicle,” Tony called from the controls.

Steve rolled his eyes. My eyebrow rose as he lied cooly, “I said arse.”

“_Arse_? Are you kidding me? That's even worse, Parker probably doesn't even know what that word means it's so ancient.” 

“It means ass, Mr. Stark.” 

There were gasps across the Quinjet. Sam and Bucky put hands over their hearts in exaggerated dismay.

“DOLLAR IN THE JAR, YOUNG MAN.”

Peter Parker’s face turned red nearby. “Sorry, Mr. Stark…” he mumbled the last part. “should’ve said tushie.” 

Steve turned back to me. “You dealt with the press and the Accords after Zemo. You’ve always supported us, always kept us to date with persons of interest in the business world, and you give us more free cupcakes than our diets should allow. 

“If we are leaving the planet...we want you with us. You’re part of the family, Angie. You’re one of us.” 

—*—

“The ship is pretty crowded, so you’ll have to bunk with Mantis,” Quill replied after a tour of the Milano. 

I hugged a folded blanket to my chest as we walked, “Sounds great. Thanks, for everything.” 

Quill smirked, “You know, I think you’re the only person on this ship that’s polite.” 

“Groot seems nice.”

“Yeah, when he's sleepin’.” 

We stopped in front of Mantis’ door. Quill leaned on one side of the frame. I leaned on the other. 

“Are you okay, though?” Quill asked, his expression turning serious for the first time I’d met him. “I mean, waking up with no memories on a ship full of aliens...most people would spread that out over more than one day.”

My face scrunched up. I was terrified, I knew that. What really surprised me was where my shock was directed: the spaceship, the talking raccoon, sharing a room with a girl that had antennae...that wasn't what scared me. I was more worried about the unknown; about _ how _ I ended up here. Why was I just floating around in space? What was _ supposed _ to happen? 

“I might wake up in the middle of the night screaming, sure.” I shrugged. “But it's fine. Just another day at the office.” 

A smile cracked across Peter’s lips. “Ever think of moving to a different cubicle?” 

“Nah, that would be too boring,” I replied, pulling myself from the doorframe. 

Quill took a step back, then paused like he was remembering something. “By the way, nobody here is gonna eat you. I won't let it happen, promise.” 

My fingers brushed against the panel on the side of the metal door. My head tilted to the side, “Okay…thanks.”

“And you’re free to leave whenever you want. You’re not stuck here, total free will—if you wanna find your old life, it's yours.” 

I smiled, “Thanks, but I don't think I'm going anywhere any time soon. My memories are toast, I think I'm better off staying here with you guys for now.”

Peter nodded awkwardly. “Yeah.”

He started to turn when I remembered something. “Peter?” 

His boots squeaked on the hard metal floor. “Yeah?” 

My finger tapped on the side of the panel to the door. “I really like the music. It's pretty awesome.” 

He beamed back at me. “Welcome the the Guardians of the Galaxy, Angel.”

I pressed the button on the nearby panel as Quill disappeared into the ramparts of the ship. The metal door slid open, with an eager Mantis awaiting me. 

“It's nice to have another girl on the ship. Gamora and Nebula are sisters, I feel left out when I am with them sometimes,” Mantis admitted as I settled in. It was a small room, with two metal slabs jutting out of the wall. There were some potted plants around, probably the courtesy of Groot, but the surroundings were mostly skeletal. 

I shrugged. “It happens. That's a shame, though. You seem really nice.” 

I smoothed out the blanket and single pillow and sat down. Mantis was practically glowing like my hair when I gestured for her to join me. 

“Thank you. You seem nice, too.” She replied. Her voice was light, and every syllable was pronounced completely. Mantis’ black hair cupped her long face like a hood. 

I liked Mantis. She reminded me of someone that I knew, especially her childlike demeanor, but I couldn't remember whom. She was easy to be around, and I already adored her as a roommate. 

“When we first found you, I tried to use my empathic abilities to wake you, but they didn't work.” Mantis replied, twisting her long fingers like caterpillar legs as she talked.

“Empathic abilities?” 

“Yes. Telepaths can—”

“Read and control minds,” I frowned as the definition rolled off my tongue.

“Yes,” Mantis nodded, “but empaths feel feelings, and can control emotions.”

“That sounds really cool,” I said. 

“You think so?” It was hard to believe that her already-wide eyes could grow larger. 

“Yeah, you're actually really lucky. It must be easy to understand people, how to approach them.” I said, crossing my legs on the thin mattress. “If I've learned anything from today, thoughts can come and go—like the weather. But feelings, they’re always there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for tuning in, Awesome Adventurers! I hope you enjoyed, I have a fun game for you guys c: Wade, no cheating.
> 
> Deadpool: Aww.
> 
> Author: Like my co-writer, I love easter eggs. I love having fun with readers even more! In this chapter, the lyrics playing in the Milano are from a song called “26 Miles” by the Four Preps. This song was actually played in another movie that Chris Hemsworth starred in! And since Thor is our main love interest in this novel, I thought I’d call some attention to some other jaw-dropping performances the God of Thunder has done!  
The first person to guess correctly which Chris Hemsworth movie it's from has a choice: they can unlock a spoiler to the book, or they can unlock a deleted scene I wrote while brainstorming this novel for everyone! (Whatever the winner chooses to unlock will be available to all readers!) Yay! I’ll also follow the person who guesses correctly, and if you happen to be a writer, feel free to send a link over and I’ll read some of your stuff (you guys know I love to comment and leave all kinds of goodies, too!)  
This game is sponsored by Stark Industries, but wait, there’s more! Thanks to Tony, you guys get a hint: the movie that it's from came out in 2018! It's one of my favorites, good luck, readers!
> 
> Bruce Banner: Hello Author! I would’ve said hi earlier, but Wade was in the Author’s Note, and...I didn't want to deal with him. Anyway, is this competition because you think you’re not funny anymore? You’re totally funny! Like when a neutron walks into a bar—
> 
> Tony Stark: For you, no charge, Brucie. I heard the news about you losing your touch, Author. Comfort food may do the trick. How about some of Bucky’s plums? Blueberries? Red, white, and blue sprinkled doughnuts? How about some fast food, there’s an Olive Garden not too far from here. 
> 
> Scott Lang: Wait, you consider Olive Garden as “fast food”? This is why the middle class is angry. And why Steve yells at you for your cholesterol. 
> 
> Author: Join us in the next chapter for some snacks provided by Stark Industries, Readers! Good luck with our little movie trivia c: love, fortune and glory to you!!


	5. "CURSING UNICORN, POOP EMOJI, POOP EMOJI, ROBOT ARM, SNOWFLAKE"

I walked along a beach. The sand was porcelain and glittering. The ocean was a bright, clear turquoise. 

There was something etched into the sand. The sea sighed against my ears. 

I looked at the message drawn on the shore. It was a symbol of some kind. 

Two strong arms embraced me from behind. Warm words followed. “Hello, my love.”

Sunshine.

—*—

The first nightmare wasn't in my head. It wasn't when I woke up, either. 

I stood before the doorway to the bathroom, paralyzed. 

_ Okay...I've officially seen a new side of the universe. _

I checked a few cupboards for any cleaners. I breezed through the labels, hoping to recognize them, although most were in languages I didn't even recognize. 

I lined up a few bottles and eyed them curiously. 

—2 0 1 2—

“Angie, it's not that bad,” Bruce said calmly as he looked over my chemistry textbook. “We can make up the lab here. Let’s see, this section is on how to identify chemicals...find out which are volatile. We can do this, we’ve done this experiment before: we did this when we tried that Pakistani place for lunch.” 

—*—

I had my first showdown with the blue screens. Found the language called “Terran” and identified the chemicals. I scrubbed, wiped, and sprayed at the layers in some areas and stains in others. Occasionally I heard a snore as I worked. 

_ I really hope this doesn't offend anyone. I really hope I'm not a clean freak, either. That's one thing I wouldn't mind forgetting. _

I learned a little more than I wanted about aliens by the time I was finished. I rewarded myself with a trip to the shower I was no longer afraid of.

I wanted the warm water to relax my muscles and the steam to clear my mind, but I didn't get my wish. Memories started to ambush me. I remembered rain, that created a sensation of calm and promised something more. I remembered the touch of skin, as scorching as the hot water, and how it made my own skin ache. I remembered his mouth, how it sometimes pressed hard so against mine I felt like I was melting into him, and his beard tickled my chin—

I turned off the water. I was breathing a little quicker than necessary. 

_ So much for relaxation. _

I got out, switched clothes, and began a new hunt for edible human food, quickly learning that it was a lost cause. 

“Mornin’,” I heard Peter behind me. I was on a footstool, inspecting the higher cabinets for food. My eyes widened and I quickly stepped down.

“Morning, sorry I'm up here. I promise I'm not snooping or going through your things.” I said, “Do you have anything edible?” 

“We could lure Rocket into the oven like Hansel and Gretel, but I ain’t eatin’ that.” Quill replied. He opened one of the cabinets I hadn't gotten to yet (without the footstool, of course. Apparently aliens were tall) and handed me a box with a plastic-like feel.

I sighed with relief and plunged my hand in, “Thank you.”

“When I first joined the Ravagers, that's all I would eat.” Peter shrugged. 

“Mmm, it tastes good.” 

“I was obsessed with Froot Loops, and that was the closest thing...” Quill’s voice trailed off as he stood before the entrance to the bathroom. 

“Uh...Angel?”

“Mhm?” My voice was muffled as I stuffed handfuls of colorful squares in my mouth. My new nickname sounded a little foreign.

“Did I step into another dimension?” Quill took one step in the bathroom, then stepped back out. In. Out. In. Out.

“No, that was me. I got up before everyone else and had some extra time,” I replied carefully.

“You...cleaned it?” 

“Yeah, I didn't mean to offend you guys—”

Peter turned back to me, gaping. “You’re like Cinderella. And every other Disney princess combined.”

I still stood there, mouth full, hair dripping, loose squares falling out of my hand. 

“I don't really remember what that is, but somehow I doubt that.” 

“It's true! Bippity Boppity miracle-worker!”

“It's just a bathroom, Peter.” 

“I think I love you.” 

I shook my head as he continued to poke the new clean surfaces. 

The rest of the Guardians slowly started to gather, and when they stumbled onto the bathroom, stared at me with the same infatuated looks that Peter did. Even Nebula, who seemed to have a permanent scowl etched on her face, gave me a somewhat satisfied glance. 

“So, what, you’re like our new maid now?” Rocket said as we all sat around the table. 

I sat up a little straighter, “No. You saved my life. It's my way of saying thank you, and hopefully I can pay you back...but not as your personal cleaning service.” 

“What is this ‘bippity boppity’ you speak of? Is it a method of attack? If so, I would very much like to learn,” Drax said, leaning forward eagerly. 

I opened my mouth but Quill quickly answered. “Yes it is! Hold up your hand like this, put down that finger, and that one, yeah just leave that one up, and there you go.”

“Peter.” Gamora scowled at him from across the table. Then she turned to me. “We’re happy to have you, Angel, and you don't owe us anything. I think we should all chip in and start keeping this place clean.”

“First we’re assassins. Now we’re janitors?” Nebula spat.

“This is our _ home_. I think we should start taking care of it,” Gamora pressed. She entwined her slender green fingers atop the table. Her voice was measured and calm, like she was the true person in charge. 

Gamora glared long and hard at Peter. He finally cringed in defeat. “Fine! Angel, when I was watching you while you slept—” my eyes widened. “—I mean, when I was present, while you were unconscious…”

“Nice save, dumbass.” 

“Shut it, Rocket! While you were out, I found this on you, and I stole it, and I'm sorry.” Quill set down a black rectangle on the table. My head tilted to the side as I stared. “Also, you were wearing a suit when we found you. But Rocket stole that one, that wasn't me.”

“I'm furious, but to be completely honest...I have no idea what this is.” I held the device Quill gave me up to the light and squinted. There were some buttons on the side, and a circle on the wider part. I pressed it. 

I blinked as the screen showered me with light. The first thing that caught me was his face. 

It's _ him_.

—S. H. I. E. L. D. H E L I C A R R I E R, 2 0 1 2—

“Pepper’s not gonna be happy, small stowaway,” Tony said as we walked through the metal halls of the helicarrier. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents passed; some in suits, some in black vests. 

I shrugged. “She said to keep and eye on you when she was in Washington, so I'm here.” 

“I meant the part where you stole Jennifer Aniston’s hair,” Tony gestured towards my new blonde hair. Most of my family was actually made up of blondes with perfect porcelain skin and blue-gray eyes. I was the only one that stood out: the darker skin tone, brown hair just like Tony’s, eyes stolen from a cartoon character. I stood out like pinocchio among the living. 

I flipped part of my hair with extra emphasis. “You don't like it?”

“_I _ find it amusing. Your aunt will say your eyebrows don't match and make you wear sunglasses at every press conference,” Tony said like the prophet he was. 

I huffed. “I know she would. That's why this is a _ wig_, Natasha taught me how to stick it on.”

“Sneaky. The Tiny Texan goes incognito.” Tony smirked. The corridor ended, spreading into the main hull of the helicarrier. Fury’s console was empty, but I knew he would be around. Tony gently steered me to the table above the many rows of computers and agents.

“Just hang around here for now. Barton’s not around for babysitting detail, so I am the new watcher.”

I patted his shoulder, knowing our roles were secretly reversed. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

Tony rolled his eyes and went to one side of the table. I went to the other. The wig was starting to itch. Looking down, I removed a couple bobby pins and slid off my disguise, releasing my brown curls. 

When I looked up, Director Nick Fury had his arms crossed, annoyed that a sixteen year-old had snuck onto his ship. 

I smiled and tossed back my bangs. “Hi, Bosley.” 

The sound of something breaking followed. My eyes trailed down the table. Natasha was there with a fond smile, the fabled Steve Rogers was staring at me with this odd look, and Dr. Bruce Banner had the same expression. 

A mountain of a man was seated at the table stamped with the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo. He wore a different uniform, like something from a _ Lord of the Rings _ film but more elaborate. I didn't recognize him. The broken remains of a coffee mug were scattered across the table. Like Dr. Banner and Mr. Rogers, he was still gazing at me. 

I set down my wig and went up to him. “Are you okay? Did you slice your hand?” 

His arms were huge. I tried not to stare too much. I studied his hands, wondering if he needed to visit medbay, but I didn't see a single cut. 

“Ah...no, no, my lady,” He said. “My apologies, it seems that mugs and I share a tentative relationship.” 

“Yeah, you and me both,” I dug out some napkins from my purse and started to tend to the mess. 

“Please, allow me. It was my wrong, I don't want you to injure yourself,” The coffee mug murderer stood.

“I'm not as breakable, I promise.” I ignored his warnings and spread out the napkins. The stranger insisted on gathering the broken pieces. Agent Coulson stepped up to help me, offering a trash can.

“Are you an agent?” Captain Rogers spoke up, addressing me. 

“This is Evangeline Green, and she was uninvited. Like _ you_,” Fury turned his gaze onto the huge man beside me. 

I smiled at the stranger. “I guess we’re the party crashers.” 

He beamed back at me. He lightly clasped one of my hands, even though it now reeked of coffee, and brought it to his lips.

“I suppose we are.” 

—*—

“Angel?”

I looked up from the face on the screen, right next to mine. “Hmm? Oh. I think it's a phone...yeah, it's mine, I think.”

I pressed the round button again and frowned. Ten digits popped up on the screen. I frowned when it blurred out the blond man’s face.

“Crap,” I muttered.

Gamora leaned forward, “A code.” 

“And I don't remember,” I remarked, reaching up to trace one of my eyebrows, a new nervous habit.

Quill held out a hand beside me. “I think I can get past it. I promise I’ll give it back.” 

I set the phone in his palm. He fiddled with the device for a few minutes. Quill used some sort of gadget that flashed an alien language.

He returned the phone to me. I stared at the new screen. It was different from the previous one. There were a bunch of cubes. The background was a symbol that looked like an _ A_.

“I forget how most of this works,” I admitted, staring harder at the screen, willing the knowledge in my head to work, but it wouldn't. It was like everything I knew was stored away in a locked box. I could feel around the edges, but the contents inside were beyond my reach.

“It's a phone, right? Maybe you have messages, voicemails.” Quill suggested. 

I tapped the icon that looked like a phone.

“This is what human tech looks like?” The tip of Rocket’s nose wrinkled up. “So primitive.” 

Sure enough, voicemail was listed. A robotic voice called out.

“_You have twelve messages_,” 

“Do you want us to leave?” Gamora asked.

I shook my head. “I don't think it matters.” 

A new voice started talking. It was human, and it sounded familiar, “_Hey Evie, it's Wanda. I'm raiding your closet and I stole that cute yellow blouse—you’re good with colors, do you think it’ll match that red jacket I have? I have a date with Vision tonight and I want an outfit that says, ‘I'm totally into you, and I’m really classy, and I wanna take things to the next level.’ Evie, I don't know what to do! I’m freaking out! Call me! I'm spamming you with pics until you do. _”

“How can someone date vision?” Drax wondered.

“When love is blind,” Quill winked. Gamora groaned.

Another message started, “_Hey, Angelina Jolie. You know who I am. When you get the chance, can you take a walk down memory lane with me and talk about when you worked for the Kingpin? Think he’s up to something_.”

“Is that your real name? Angeline Jolie?” Mantis asked.

I shrugged, “I really can't remember.”

“Sounds like a movie star! Like Kevin Bacon!”

I felt my shoulders stiffen when the next message began. The voice was dripping with acid, “_Hello, _ Angie._ This is Emma Frost. My boss says that he's found someone better, and doesn't need you anymore. _ So _ sorry to disappoint. But I'm sure you’re used to this kind of thing. Maybe you can use your newfound free time to become more _ acquainted _ with your field. _”

“Wow, sounds like a bitch.”

“How can an Emma be frozen?”

“Drax, I challenge you to a quiet game. Starting now. Right now.”

The next voicemail made my cheeks flare red, _ “Hey, Angie. It’s your favorite piece of chocolate talkin’—” _

_ “Sam’s in love with you, Angie!” _

_ “Shut up, Barnes and Noble!” _

_ “Your name in his phone is ‘Sugar, Spice, and Everything Sexy’—” _

_ “And you’re in my phone as _ _ CURSING UNICORN, POOP EMOJI, POOP EMOJI, ROBOT ARM, SNOWFLAKE. _ _ ” _

_ “FOR YOUR INFORMATION, UNICORNS ARE VERY MAJESTIC CREATURES AND SNOWFLAKES ARE BEAUTIFUL AND I'M AN INCH TALLER THAN YOU.” _

_ “CAP SAYS THAT IF HE DIES AND CAN'T WALK IT OFF, I GET THE SHIELD. I HAVE THE POWER, REFRIGERATOR DOOR MAN. HE LIKES ME BETTER.” _

_ “RAAAAUUUUGGGHH—” _

_ “GAAAAAAUUUUGH—” _

Quill and Rocket fell off their chairs laughing. Gamora’s eyes were wide. “Oh my god. There are bigger idiots in the universe than in this room. I...I didn't think it was possible.”

“Just one more message,” I announced, suddenly wishing I had listened to them in a room alone. “Before I hide in my room forever.”

The last person didn't introduce themselves. Their voice was soft like a whisper, almost velvet. For some reason, I thought of spiders when I heard her voice, “_Hey, it’s me. I went to your apartment, but you weren't there...I found the gun underneath the floorboards. Look...can we talk about this? You need to move on...call me. _”

The room grew eerily quiet. 

I pressed the button to end the recordings. “I think...that's enough for now.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hia Awesome Adventurers! Our little movie trivia with Chris Hemsworth is still going, don't be afraid to chime in! Rewards are still offered! When I wrote this chapter, I actually wrote the phone messages separate, before this scene came. In one of them is Emma Frost, some of you may recognize her from the X-Men franchise. This story does have more X-Men heroes to come, and Emma Frost is one of them. I did some research on her for this novel, and she actually ended up being one of my favorite Marvel characters (which is weird because she has a reputation for being nasty). Hopefully we'll have more out soon! We'll make this a short A/N, love, fortune and glory to you, Awesome Adventurers!!


	6. "My Oasis of Normality"

I sat cross-legged, staring at the phone in my lap. I was flipping through photos. There were a lot of pictures of this man with a gotye making funny faces. Some of him with a strawberry-blonde woman. _ Strawberries. _ She looked familiar.

I focused on her face. High cheekbones, gray eyes. Freckles dotted her nose like the sun glittering on ocean waves. She almost looked fragile, but I knew she wasn’t. 

I traced the thin lines that made up her face with my eyes. _ Pepper._

—C A L I F O R N I A, 2 0 1 3—

“You’re sending me away again.” 

“No—this is an opportunity, _ Cinnamon_. You could make connections, meet new people.”

“You’re sending me to Darren Cross,” I couldn't help the disgusted look on my face. 

I sat across from my aunt in a coffee shop. We were seated in the corner of the room, away from prying eyes. It didn't really matter. There were always people watching in California. I missed New York. I missed the city where gods walked among men and monsters lurked in the sewers and people could fly. 

My aunt huffed on the other side of the table. Her name was Pepper Potts, but I liked to call her my Oasis of Normality. She was like one of those relatives that you always heard breathtaking stories about, and when you finally saw her, she was just...normal. Just an ordinary human being. That’s what I liked about her. Even in a world of spidermen and earth-walking gods, my Aunt Pepper could recall the stock market and talk about what a great deal she scored on her high heels. I loved her. But right now, I didn't want “normal.”

“I spoke to Hope Van Dyne about your new assistant position,” Pepper started.

“So did I.” I cut her off. “I spoke to Hope _ Pym _, and she told me that Cross was a psycho. Besides, I thought we were Team Stark, why would you sign me up to work for a company founded by Pym Tech?”

“Because if you want to pursue a career in diplomacy, that means you’ll have to deal with grudges. Might as well get used to it,” Pepper insisted, swirling her caramel drizzle mocha with a thin black straw.

This wasn't a business meeting, but our posture was perfect and our legs were crossed. That's how I knew we were related. We were too reserved. Sometimes I wanted to choke on the constant formality. 

“Assuming I’ll have a future to pursue it,” I mumbled, looking down at a tray of cookies I barely touched. 

“Honey,” Pepper reached across the table and patted one of my hands. Her usual tanned complexion turned pale, like fire to ice. “You’ll be fine. We’ll deal with this medical disaster, and we’ll move on. I found a doctor back in New York, some Strange guy…”

I perked up at the mention of the city. Pepper shook her head, “He’s got a weird name, but his assistant sounded sane, so that’s something. I’m trying, here.”

I looked up. Pepper’s concern was clearly written on her face. That's another way I knew we were related. We worried too much. 

I sighed and looked out the window. I tried to avoid my reflection, “I still don't see the point in working for Cross—it’s like you’re sending me back to boarding school.”

“Well, at least this one’s in the country,” Pepper’s doppelganger in the glass offered me an apologetic smile. “That was for your own good.”

“It was hell.” 

“You know you enjoyed it.”

“Yes. Tons of people love to be cursed out in spanish and dodge erasers thrown by the Japanese educational system.” 

Pepper’s mirrored image scoffed. “The food was good.” 

I turned back to her. “Yes. The strawberry shortcake was superb.”

Pepper squinted. “I’m sorry, your mother didn't give me an instruction manual.”

“She didn't leave me one, _ either_.” 

Pepper squeezed the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “Please take the job. Let’s try to stay rational with all of this: you’re not dying yet, we don't know anything. You still have your future ahead of you. Take the job, and see where it leads.” 

I bobbed my head mechanically. Pepper wanted to act like everything was normal. Fine. I would pretend. I would pretend that I didn't feel like I was dying. I would pretend that even if I was dying, an Avenger would be there to save me. 

—*—

“Hey—oh. Yo,” The metal door slid open to the room Mantis and I shared. Quill’s eyes flit up to my spot, sitting on the ceiling. My hair was dangling down—it only glowed in the dark, and shined dully in the dim lights of the ship.

“Hi. Apparently I can do this now…” I glanced down at the ceiling that I sat on. “You should get in on this, it's great for your back.” 

Quill shrugged off the surprise. I watched him carefully, wondering if this was the moment where he would casually ask me to leave his ship.

“So you’re still bunking with us dwarves, Snow White?” He said. 

My eyebrows creased. When I tilted my head to the side, I felt the weight of my hair shift. “I thought you would want me to leave...after that voicemail.”

“Pfft, don't be so hard on yourself. Rocket keeps a bomb in a box.” Quill remarked, leaning on the doorframe. “Besides, I'm pretty sure everyone on this ship has killed somebody. You’re not the odd man out.” 

The crease in my eyebrows grew deeper. Peter misread it, “Unless you wanted to leave. I mean...it is your old life, if that's what you want…”

Peter watched with awe as I positioned myself sideways and glided back down to the floor. I held out my hand, and my phone fell at a slowed pace into my palm. 

“Well...I was thinking. Trying to be _ rational _ about all of this…” I said, starting to gesture with my hands as I explained. “I think I should stay with you guys until I sort out my head a little bit. I don't know who those people are or what happened to me, and maybe it would be better if I figured it out for myself instead of being told the details.” 

Quill digested my words, then nodded along. “Yeah. ‘Think that’s smart. Don't wanna end up like that movie _ Overboard_, with Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell.”

“Kurt Russell?”

“Yeah. Good-lookin’, great hair. He was one of my idols growing up.”

“Huh.” The reference went completely over my memory-deprived head, but I nodded along anyway. I was too excited: in a matter of days I’d gone from being completely lost to a tourist of the galaxy. I was almost bouncing from the rush.

“Thank you so much for letting me stay,” I curled my hands beneath my chin. “This is like a _ Doctor Who _ episode...I forget what that is, but I'm still excited.”

“See? Nobody gets my references either! This is gonna be so cool!” 

“Yay! Bring on the cool space stuff!” 

“Yay!”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Anyone else have that one relative with the styrofoam diet, and forget the taste of real food unless they go out to eat? No? Just me? 
> 
> Clint: And Steve ;-;
> 
> Bucky: There's a reason I was driven to plums.
> 
> Tony: There's a reason I now hide blueberries in the furniture. Just don't check the potted plants—
> 
> Scott: Oh, you mean that hidden stash of Toffifay? Yeah, man...somebody took that...
> 
> Thor: Oh, this reminds me of a story! There was this one time where I went over to pick up Nutella, because I like Nutella, and then—
> 
> Everyone else: "My brother Loki transformed back into himself and said 'mmblerg, it's me.' And then he stabbed me."
> 
> Bucky: How many of your childhood stories end like that, man?
> 
> T'Challa: All of mine end with being peddled by cucumbers. 
> 
> Tony: Are we all skating around the fact that Scott ate my entire stash of Toffifay?
> 
> Thor: He is a fiend.
> 
> Author: Dammit, now I'm famished. See you in the next chapter, love, fortune and glory to you, Awesome Adventurers!!


	7. "Templar Ned of the Silver"

—X A N D A R—

“Yo, Groot! Keep up! If you run into another wall because of that damn game, I'm recording it and showing it to Drax.”

“I am _ Groot_.” The tree spat without looking up from the small screen. 

We strode across the open pavilions of the Nova capitol. The city was magnificent; bright squares, water fountains, massive spirals of buildings. It had a futuristic tinge to it—like _ Star Trek_, but I couldn't remember what that was. 

“Have you ever tried replacing that thing with a book?” I asked.

Rocket gave me a weird look. “What's a book?” 

My eyes widened and I looked away without a word. Rocket had a certain feel to him...a _ passive aggressiveness_. But he cared. All of the snide comments, the special attention he took to Groot, it was because Rocket cared. I could work with that. 

“Isn't there anything else you're interested in, sweetie?” I looked over at Groot. 

He barely glanced up from his machine. “_I _am Groot.” 

“Woah! Have some respect, young man! When we get back to the ship, I'm rinsing your mouth out with a bar of soap,” Rocket’s lip curled up in disgust. “No more spending time on Uncle Quill’s screens.”

“I am Groot!”

Rocket translated, “Oh, that's true. He likes cheesecake. But cheesecake ain’t gonna redeem you for what you said.”

I shrugged as we started to ascend the ramp. We had a marvelous view of the square, and the pools of water shimmering like a blanket of diamonds under the heat of two suns. Two twin shadows followed me up the slope instead of one. 

I pressed a finger to my lip. “Cheesecake is good. There’s got to be other things that you like...have you ever thought of starting an environmental awareness club or something?” 

“I am Groot.” 

“Wait, you did? Drax ate the berries you invited? That's rude.” Rocket said. 

We stopped at the front of a building.

I shielded my face from the sweltering orbs in the sky. “So what are we doing here?” 

“Negotiations, kinda. We meet with the Ravagers every now and then, show off the cool junk we got, exchange information.” Rocket replied.

I walked in beside him, followed by the sounds of Groot’s video game. The inside was dark and full of neon lights. The blue ones reminded me of electric stingers and lightning. We ended up at a booth in the corner; Rocket insisted that Groot was too young for the bar. 

I crossed my legs beneath the table and felt my shoulders straighten—I must’ve done it a lot, before. It felt natural, even though it seemed too professional. Groot’s game continued to make imitations of explosions.

“Mute that thing, would ya?” Rocket snapped. “Jeez, should’ve given you Quill’s headphones.”

I glanced over at the screen. Groot’s console shone bright against the windowless room. “What are you playing?” 

“I am Groot.” 

Rocket made a face. “Some stupid game called ‘Galaga.’ Quill and his stupid human crap…”

I leaned over. “If you use your branches to hold it up, maybe it’ll be easier to use the controls with your fingers.” 

“Don't encourage him!” Rocket complained. 

A waiter came over with crystals for teeth and neon-colored hair. Rocket ordered a few drinks and a slice of cheesecake for Groot. Groot took my advice and angled the screen so I could watch. 

“You’re really good,” I said, impressed. “He is awesome at this, did you teach him, Rocket?” 

“I am Groot.”

“You _ learned _ it from _ me_…? You watch me when I'm flying the ship,” There was a crack of emotion in Rocket’s voice.

“I am Groot.” He offered me the controller. 

My eyes widened. He barely looked up from the game since I’d arrived. Now his tawny eyes stared into mine, warm and tender against the exotic streaks of color across the room. 

“Thank you, I don't think I’ll get anywhere near your high score though. What do I press again?” Groot pointed out the right buttons and the screen came to life. Little dots started flying around the screen. 

—A V E N G E R S C O M P O U N D, 2 0 1 8—

“Get that one—yes yes _ yes_!” Thor’s arms tightened around me from behind as I pressed the buttons on the controller. 

“You get so excited when we play this, it's adorable,” I smiled as _ Dragon Age: Inquisition _ came to a cutscene. 

“I love spending time with you,” Thor replied, pressing a kiss on my neck, “and killing demons together—” another kiss, “and fighting dragons together.” his beard tickled my collarbone.

“_ Honey_! We have company.” I hissed, resisting a smile as he nuzzled into my neck.

“It’s cool, Ms. Angie. You guys are like my OTP,” Ned was a friend of Peter Parker’s, who sat on the loveseat next to him with the other controller. “Besides Wanda and Vision—but I'm still upset that Clintasha never happened.”

Parker’s face scrunched up with confusion. Shuri was sitting down by the coffee table, eyes trained on the screen. She could probably solo everything, but for now, we were kept around as a few disposable lackeys. “Templar Ned of the Silver! Get your head in the game! Chaplain Korg of the Seven Kingdoms, diverge on that lava demon!” 

Thor’s new friend from space, that was also made of rocks, overpowered the other half of the couch. The caterpillar-like creature Meep curled up in the armchair nearby. 

“Hey Thor, can we vote in Admiral Shuri of Dragonstone as our new Asgardian general? I think she’d be good for the job,” Korg replied. A loose pebble fell from his shoulder when he talked.

“Keep up the pace, ladies! You’re making the picture of Agent Carter in my room cry!”

“Hmm. We’ll consider it,” Thor’s lips brushed against my ear. “What do you think, _ Khaleesi_?”

“I think Shuri would overthrow you and take the throne.” I admitted. As I muttered the words, Shuri let out a battle cry as the screen exploded with light. 

Thor nodded. “Fair enough.”

Shuri shot up from the ground, waving her controller in the air. “Victory, peasants! _ Yes_!” 

I was suddenly buried in a tidal wave of muscle as Thor peppered me with kisses. I couldn't help laughing. “Thor, stop it—”

—*—

I looked up from Groot’s game. “This is so cool—you should show it to Rocket, I'm sure he’d love to know how to play.”

I returned the game back to Groot. Rocket shot me something close to a thankful look as Groot scooted closer to him and started pointing at the screen. 

_ What's an OTP? And who is Templar Ned of the Silver? _

I thought about the faces that had flashed through my mind, grasping at the memory before it could be locked away with the rest. I mulled over them for some time until the table shook.

I looked up. A thin man dressed in red leather sneered with crooked teeth from the other side of the booth. 

“Kraglin,” Rocket greeted him as he leaned back on the seat. 

“ ‘Ey Fuzzy. Where’s Quill?” Kraglin glanced at me. “And who’s the fairy?” 

“Quill is busy.” Rocket rolled his eyes as if it were an obvious question.

“Doin’ what?” 

“Grocery shopping. He pulled the shortest stick,” Rocket snapped. 

“And the fairy?” Kraglin’s hair was piled up on the top of his head, topped with some kind of red attachment. It was like he added the extra inches on purpose, to appear more intimidating. 

“Fairy?” I asked.

“Yeah. You got the face of one—like those elvy dudes on Alfheim,” Kraglin’s eyes narrowed with skepticism. My eyebrows furrowed at the place he mentioned. I recognized it, but I couldn't remember why.

“_This _ is our new recruit. Found her floating around in the middle of nowhere.” Rocket answered. 

Kraglin nodded. He glanced down at the table when he asked another question, “Did...did Nebula get that hat I sent ‘er?”

“I am Groot.”

“We know, you have a low opinion of hats.” Rocket sighed at Groot.

“It's not a hat. It's a beanie,” Kraglin said defiantly. 

“What the hell’s a beanie?” 

“Something soft you put on your head!” Kraglin’s hands crumpled into fists on the table. “Did she like it?”

“How the hell should I know! Nebula hates everything. Enough with the interrogation, already.” Rocket stood on the cushions so he was eye level with Kraglin. “What do ya got?” 

Kraglin started to admire the tips of his gloves. “The Ravagers got some shiny things...some secrets too.”

“Shiny things?” Rocket leaned forward, greed glinting in his eyes. 

“What secrets?” I asked politely. 

“Forget the intel! Show us the goods!” Rocket complained. 

From the look on Kraglin’s face, the “goods” weren't as good as he claimed. I tried to think—I didn't have much to work with. I still barely knew the Guardians, and even if I did have my old memories, they weren't useful here. 

_ Except for what Peter told me… _

“You’re speaking to someone who keeps a bomb in a box.” I said, straightening in my seat as I felt all eyes on me. “The Guardians already have a fine collection of shiny things.”

“Collections can always grow,” Rocket pointed out. 

“Secrets can be more valuable, and lead to other shiny things.” I said. My voice stayed light and calm and neutral—it was activated on instinct. “From what I’ve gathered in the time I’ve spent with the Guardians, the Ravagers are one of our closest contacts.” 

“_Contacts?_” Kraglin shot Rocket a shocked expression. 

“It's a big galaxy. We have friends in high places. But we will not deny our close relations with the Ravagers,” I finally leaned forward, capturing Kraglin with my eyes. “If you tell us what we need to know, the Ravagers may benefit greatly. _ Our _ victories are our traders’ victories.” 

I had managed to capture Groot’s attention away from his game again. Rocket and Groot gaped at me. Part of me was shocked. Someone taught me how to bargain. Not even that: I could slay with words. Was I a politician?

Kraglin struggled for words across the table, “Yeah, but…”

He already gave me the leverage to seal the deal. “I’m sure our other companions, including Nebula, would be grateful for your contribution.”

Kraglin sat there for a minute, his foot tapping underneath the table. Then he caved. “Alright. We got some shiny things, but we found somebody…a shiny _ man_.” 

Rocket and I exchanged a look. “There’s some rumors about him. He’s been sniffin’ around the galaxy. Don't know what he's up to...but he may be guardin’ a heap of units somewhere. Or he’s lookin’ for one. Either way, we get the feelin’ that there’s some money in that lead.”

Rocket whistled. “We hit the jackpot! This is better than any casino I've ever been to.”

Kraglin unfolded a piece of paper from his jacket pocket and slid it over the table to me. When I reached for it, he caught my gaze.

“Be careful with that lead. There’s a reason us Ravagers haven't pursued it ourselves. And tell Nebula…” He swallowed and glanced at the counter. “Tell ‘er that ‘er nails look pretty.” 

I nodded, finding myself smiling sweetly as I handed the slip to Rocket. He fist-bumped me, then kissed the paper and stuffed it into his suit. 

Kraglin stood from the booth and nodded to us. “Looks like you lucked out there, Fuzzy.”

“Damn right I did.” 

Kraglin looked at me. “I wasn't talkin’ about the lead.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wade the Awesome Assassin: Well met, random lurkers who dareth to readeth these overly lengthy notes of the Author! And Author said I couldn't pull off a cameo in her World of Warcraft fanfic.
> 
> Stephen Strange of the Magi: You traveling to a different fandom to wreak havoc? Oh, that sounds delightful...except you wouldn't be here. Why don't you give it a go?
> 
> Jennifer Walters the Jolly Green Giant: You wanna provoke the guy who tried to kill the Author once? Smart, Stephen.
> 
> Wade the Awesome Assassin: Oh, there was no "try." I kept the parts in Rocket's secret fridge for body limbs. Author was D-E-A-D. That lady rose from the dead, like the guy in Dragon Age: Inquisition...what was his name again?
> 
> Author: I SAW THE THRONE OF THE GODS, AND IT WAS EMPTY!!! :3
> 
> Peter Parker, Heir of House Stark: EEEEEEEEEEEEK!
> 
> Wade the Awesome Assassin: The world may never know her secrets...
> 
> Author: Hi Awesome Adventurers! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, by the way: that guess-the-Chris-Hemsworth-movie-with-the-right-song trivia is still going on. There is no expiration on this or anything, and the winner gets to unlock a deleted scene/spoiler for everyone plus some individual goodies. You can revisit "Captain America's Godly Ass" to familiarize yourself with the challenge. We'll have more soon! Love, fortune and glory to you, Awesome Adventurers!!


	8. "Little Bunny Foo Foo's a Nightmare"

—C A L I F O R N I A, 2 0 1 1—

We drove past endless miles of nothing. 

The sun casted a harmful glare across the hood of one of Tony’s many expensive cars. I glanced over at him, my grip tightening on the leather harness of the steering wheel.

“Tony?”

“Yeah, Tiny Texan?”

“I have a dummy question.”

“I love dummy questions. Ask away.”

“Are we lost? Because if we are, that bottle of scotch that you smuggled in here—yes, I noticed—is the only source of water we have.” I scanned the mountain range just on the tip of the horizon. The desert was hot and full of dull colors, but underneath the rays of the sun, there was a regalness to it. Dead shrubs glittered like gold. The tan-colored dirt blazed a bright orange. We were traveling across the surface of the sun.

“Technically, _ you’re _ the driver. I'm just a passenger.” 

“_Technically_, I only have my permit, and _ you _ are the adult...legally speaking, anyway.” I quipped. 

“Ugh. Being an adult is exhausting. Never become one,” Tony advised, disappearing under the dash for a split second. He emerged with a metal flask that I caught the glint of in the corner of my eye. 

“You need to let loose. Stop worrying about all the crap, quit tip-toeing.”

I shrugged. “I'm short. I always have to walk on my toes—_you _ would know.”

“Ouch. Keep your kicks above the waistline, please.” Tony took a swig with an exaggerated exhale afterwards. Then he leaned back and propped his feet up on the dash. I noticed the three-inch heels attached to his shoes.

“Tiny Stark,” I muttered.

“Tiny Texan!”

“Tiny Stark!”

“Tiny Texan!”

“Gah!” I continued to drive across the desert in no direction in particular. “Where am I even supposed to be heading?” 

“Not my problem. You're the driver; that’s your decision.” Tony mused, suddenly interested in the radio. He flipped through channels. It worried me that half of them were now just static. He settled on a song that was partially understandable. The lyrics were glitchy.

_ “I—I wa...standin... _

_ You were there. _

_ T-two worl...c-colliding. _

_ And...c-could—” _

—S P A C E—

_ “—never tear us apart.” _

Quill’s music echoed down the metal halls. The lead I had uncovered lead us a few “jumps” north, to a near-empty ship. Rocket had taken over the ship’s security, meanwhile everyone else was scouting the many passageways. Rock smashed scissors, so I was partnered with Quill. 

“Peter’s Peanut Gallery, come in.”

“We’re not using that codename, Second Captain. This is _ First _ Captain reporting, all clear on cameras.” 

“Will you idiots quit with the names?” 

“Sorry, Grinchie.”

I gaped at Quill. I silenced my com and hissed, “You nicknamed Gamora after the _ Grinch_?”

“Hey, you’re remembering stuff! That's cool—ow!” Quill winced when I punched him in the arm. “What was that for?” 

“Come on, Peter! What did you name Drax after? A fruit roll up?” 

“I kinda like that, actually. It has a nice ring to it. And it's ironic, so he’ll never get it.” Quill mused as we continued to stealthily creep forward. The lights were dim. Peter’s helmet eyes and my hair glowed, sending a glare across the pipes along the walls. “Never knew Drax was so delicious.”

I shrugged. “I wouldn't really classify Drax as tasting sweet—I think he would be more like a salad without any dressing.”

“Shh—! Don't mention salads around Groot! Vegetarians are the real monsters…”

“Remind me never to make you an organic veggie loaf or something.”

“Please don't: for the plants. And my taste buds.”

We stopped at the edge of the hallway, where it started to curve. We pressed against the last uneven surface of the wall, peeking out. Quill’s music from our coms filled the tense void.

“Rocket should totally be Pusheen—no, Totoro. Definitely Totoro.” I whispered when the coast was clear. We continued down the hall. 

“What’s a Totoro?” Peter’s head was cocked to the side, as if he were trying to remember something. 

“It's from an anime...I think.” I frowned. Names and references came easily now, but it was hard to decipher who or what they were. 

“What's an anime?” 

“Uh...I think it's a series. Yeah. A series about a bunch of incredibly flawless-looking people.”

“Oh. You really wanna name Rocket after _ that_, then?”

“Ironic, remember?”

Quill laughed. The sound was almost...metallic, coming from his helmet. For some reason, the sound was familiar—it reminded me of something. The back of my skull felt fuzzy as I tried to focus on it. But I couldn't remember what. 

“So who’s ship is this?” I asked.

“It belongs to the Watchers.” 

The name didn't ring a bell. “The Watchers?” I repeated. 

“Yeah. These bald guys with big heads.”

“Are they the good guys?” I asked.

“Eh...sort of. They’re not the bad guys, or the good guys, really. Just...neutral. They don't really _ do _ anything. They just watch.” Peter replied. “It's kinda weird that the lead brought us here. Whoever we’re looking for must be searching for something—the Watchers observe everything in the galaxy. When you wanna know something, you go to them.”

“And they just...tell you?” I said.

Peter shook his head. “They don't _ do_, they observe. They have the high-powered tech to do it—and any other freaky psychic powers they got hidden.”

“Huh.” I bit down on my lip as I processed all of this. So we were on the ship of an omnipresent being, observing the entire universe. The thought sent a shiver down my spine. I tried not to think about it too much.

I winced as Gamora’s shout vibrated through my coms. “We’re not alone! Found something, in segment thirteen—”

Static took over the line. 

“Gamora!” Peter and I froze in our tracks. The few lights that surrounded us started flashing red. 

“Careful, this jerk is quick—I barely caught them on the screens over here,” Rocket’s voice sputtered through. “They’re headed for the Watchers’ tech center!”

“And Gamora?” Peter cut him off.

“She’s getting up—Mantis is on her way. Go! Stop that moron!” Rocket professionally ordered us. 

Quill offered me his hand as the bulky jet attachments around his ankles came to life. I waved him off and started sprinting down the corridor. 

There was a knot in my stomach that kept twisting tighter and tighter, accompanied by the race of my pulse. We went over a few fighting basics; I had experimented a little with my new abilities. Would it be enough? 

I picked up the pace. I felt lighter than before. I moved quicker—I couldn't fly, exactly, but it felt like I weighed less, like less gravity was weighing down on me. When I ran, there was almost a bounciness to it—a skip, even—like I was running across moons. I could move _ fast_. And when I got too close to the walls, instead of crashing into them, I felt my body tilting, and I could scale them sideways. 

Quill caught up with me. The tunnel finally ended; the room expanded into a glass dome that overlooked an eternal horizon of stars and pink nebulae. It casted a rosy glare upon the many monitors of the room.

I caught a glint as I raced forward. I saw it—err, him?

I couldn't see everything: I was moving too fast, and there was still an amount of distance between us. “Shiny man” definitely suited him. His skin was gleaming like a faceless figure on a sports trophy. Like everything else in the room, he was drenched in the magenta taint of the nebulae. 

Quill stopped. I was moving too fast. I pummeled past him like a bullet fired from a gun. How did I stop again?

The man of steel loomed closer. He was looking at the monitors, completely ignoring me. Quill and Rocket were yelling at me through the coms.

I slipped. 

I didn't ram into our shiny lead. Instead, I crashed into the otherworldly rows of technology. I heard sparks and dents being made in the metal. I think I shouted a word that Groot was too young to hear yet. 

The air escaped my lungs when I slammed into the walls of metal. It was like I was watching a movie: voiceless, hopeless. Just an onlooker. A watcher. 

My torturous tumble didn't stop. My foot got caught on one of the levers. I felt the wind sting my skin as I went airborne. Glass cracked. 

I fell to the ground with a groan.

“Peter…” I croaked his name. “I've fallen, and I can't get up...get me a walker and I'm basically Steve.”

I felt bruises forming, hot knots of pain across my skin, clashing with the cold, hard metal floor. I let out a huff of frustration, “Who the hell is Steve? Wait...that came out wrong...I think…”

Now I was seeing voting registration forms and frisbees dancing before my eyes. I must’ve hit my head hard. 

I turned over, just as Peter hovered over me with a horrified look. “Holy shit…”

“Quill? Quill! Is she still alive?” Rocket’s voice in my ear made me flinch. 

“Yeah.”

“Good…‘cause I can't stop...laughing,” Rocket cackled in the coms.

Quill knelt over me, tucking one of my bangs out of the way. “Are you okay? Man, that was scary to watch. You went freakin’ airborne…”

I ignored the pain in my shoulder and put a weak, fumbling hand on his arm. “I-I’m great...I'm super, i-it's just a scratch.”

“You’re bleeding!”

“Just please...promise me one thing.”

Peter nodded, “You got it.”

“Please, Peter, please, for the love of _ God_...please don't stick me in the freezer.” 

Rocket bellowed in the background, rolling across the ground somewhere with laughter. Quill reached over and lightly removed my com from my ear, “I promise nobody’s gonna eat you—that includes holding you hostage in the freezer…”

“Thanks.”

“The fridge is full of Rocket’s severed collection of body parts anyway.”

My face scrunched up and I rolled over, my back to him. “Little Bunny Foo Foo’s a nightmare...”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shuri: OMG! IT'S T'CHALLA'S COUSIN!!
> 
> Rocket Raccoon: I heard you're keepin' that guy with the metal arm in the freezer...how much is that worth?
> 
> Steve Rogers: You can't put a price on Bucky!!
> 
> Tony Stark: Sure you can. Let me run a yard sale. 
> 
> Natasha Romanoff: We're doing another yard sale? I wanna scare people off again when they think Scott is a Christmas ornament. 
> 
> Author: Speaking of holidays, happy early Valentines Day, Awesome Adventurers!! I am deeply sorry for the irregular posting of chapters lately! School work is not as fun as traveling across the galaxy. We'll try to work on that, I promise—usually chapters are up on Fridays, but we're doing this Thursday night because I like to spoil you guys. So have lots of love this lovely Valentines day, with buckets of fortune and glory too!


	9. "A Strange Coincidence"

—T H E M I L A N O—

“Yo...you’re not dead, right Angel?”

“Only on the inside,” I told Peter as Mantis balanced another frozen bag of food on my head. Quill was surprisingly clingy ever since my humiliating accident; wherever I looked, he seemed to be there. Maybe he pitied me because Mantis couldn't put my emotions at rest. 

Mantis returned to her seat nearby in the cockpit. Out of the corner of my eye, Rocket was snickering at the taped recording. “You’ll live on forever—people are eating up this video. Over two billion hits so far.”

My eyes widened. “Two _ billion_?”

Quill misread my shock. “That's it, I'm taking down that video—”

“Is the galaxy really that populated?” I asked. 

Gamora glanced up from her orange leather seat and nodded, “That's actually a small number. The Kree homeworld alone has a population up in the trillions by now…”

Peter fiddled with the controls of the ship, and individual blue screens appeared before every seat. “And one of those billions of people is the lead that got away.”

I winced. I didn't stop our shiny lead. I tore up the Watcher’s ship to bits, though. I was glad that they were neutral in all affairs after that incident. 

I leaned my head back against the ridges of the chair and let my eyes close for a brief minute. I didn't know whether I had a concussion or not. If I did, I was sure that wasn't a good combination with amnesia. My head was swimming. My mind was trying to sort out locked away memories and comprehend the true size of the galaxy.

My fingers tightened on the arms of my chair. I felt my mouth filling with saliva.

I turned to the side. Nebula was across the aisle from me. The faint outline of her one eyebrow arched as I unbuckled myself.

“Excuse me for a minute,” I mumbled, escaping to the room below the cockpit. I nearly fell a second time from the ladder from my sweaty palms. I stumbled my way into the bathroom. 

I went to the sink and leaned on the counter for who knows how long. This wasn't just a physical type of nausea; it was..._everything_. It was _ too _ much.

I thought about blue eyes. Rainfall. Soft thunder, like the rumble of a deep voice. It felt natural. Calm.

Glowing hearts. Red curls. I smiled for some reason when I thought of katanas, which was weird, but it felt right. Birds. Lots of birds. And bugs. Black cats and lab coats.

The nausea didn't go completely away. I didn't expect it to, but I was managing it. I splashed my face with cold water. I attempted to stretch, hissing as pain erupted in different areas. My skin probably looked like a blue-patterned patchwork quilt. 

“Hey, Angel? You’re still alive, right?” Quill’s voice on the other side of the door made me jump.

“Yeah, sorry,” I called out, rearranging my clothes. I traced my eyebrows in a quick motion right before the door slid open. 

“Sorry,” I blurted again when I saw the look on his face. “I needed a human minute.” 

He nodded once. “Yeah, those are always good...look, do you wanna...stop by somewhere? Maybe get everything checked out?”

“Do we even have the time? What if we lose the lead—?”

“I don't care about the lead.” Peter snapped. His brown-green eyes softened, “Sorry, just...I knew somebody with health issues and stuff. Ah...when anybody ‘round here gets hurt, brings back memories…”

—D O C T O R S T E P H E N S T R A N G E, 2 0 1 3—

I stared at the door a little longer.

“Seventeen years.” 

The clipboard was clutched in my hand. The death sentence felt heavier than an ordinary clipboard. 

Nurses and doctors passed the door with urgent steps, like they were avoiding the loom of death. 

“Seventeen years…” 

I had my assistant choose my cases carefully: I didn't go near lost causes or butcher shops or income rates below forty-thousand a year. All of these things in consideration, I wasn't bad at my job: on the contrary, I had many degrees and awards that proclaimed my success. I had high-paying clients, and some risk involved. The adrenaline was enough stimulation. 

But cases like _ these_...they were just too, too..._close_. My mouth was dry, the moisture sucked out by fear. I didn't like situations that could be described with vocabulary such as “inevitable” or “unavoidable.” I actively avoided it. No, I wasn't a coward. Who wants to be so close to death?

“Seventeen years,” I muttered again. The vent above me released a frigid blast of air. Like frozen breath. Like a promise. It caressed my skin in a chilling, uncomfortable way, like I was being poked with a scalpel.

I shuddered and stepped towards the door. The doorknob was cold too. Hard and lifeless. 

I entered the tiny waiting room, quickly raising the clipboard to my face like a shield. I was aware of the man who was sitting in one of the chairs along the wall. The walls were white and clean: blank slates. 

I felt my voice rumble in my chest as I read off the paper. “Miss Evangeline Virginia Green…?”

I glanced up at the metal slab on the other wall, and the person sitting on top of it. 

She looked young. That was the first thing that struck me, what hurt the most. The report said she was seventeen, but she didn't look that old. Her eyes were like the large, glassy eyes that they stuck on pudgy, hard-skinned dolls. They bothered me. 

“Hi, that's me.” She replied. Her voice was silvery, almost like birds chirping in Central Park. She didn't sound scared. 

Her huge doll eyes never left me. It was like they already knew the truth.

“That's some name,” I said. “Very catchy.” 

The man on the side snorted. “Speak for yourself, Doc.”

I looked away from the short girl with the doll eyes and studied him. He looked more ordinary, like someone I would pass on the street who was walking their dog. His eyes bothered me too. They flit all over me like he was doing a CAT scan. They saw too much.

“I read your name on the staff list. Your middle name is Vincent, right?”

“That is correct, yes.” I said.

“Huh. Both of you have middle names that start with a ‘V.’ That's a _ strange _ coincidence, isn't it?” He remarked. 

“And you are?”

“Clint Barton.”

“He's family,” The girl confirmed. 

Clint’s smile was temporary. “I'm a stand-in. Potts is the one that scheduled the meeting.”

I glanced at the papers. “And covered the cost.”

“Hey, when you have access to Tony Stark’s black card, you use it, pal.” 

“Uhuh…” I went back to Doll Eyes and leaned on the slab. It was easier not to say her name in my head. It made it seem more...distant. 

“So what's the word, Doc?”

I kept my eyes glued on the pages, but I didn't focus on the words. “Ms. Green, how many surgeries have you had?” I asked.

“I had seven when I was little, before I was four,” Doll Eyes replied. “I’ve had other issues in the past with my health. Colds...viruses...they’re just a natural occurrence for me.” 

It felt odd to be near someone so close to death. Even on the operating table, when someone was sliced open and their crimson insides were shining in the overhead lights...this was a new kind of intimacy. A heaviness in the air. 

“Hmm. The results here conclude that you have _ encephalopathy_,” I said. I saw her knees lock up in my peripheral vision. 

“That's a mouthful,” Clint remarked, crossing his arms. His body language cried out unease. “What is it?” 

This was usually the part I enjoyed the most out of my work. It was like I was Sherlock Holmes, explaining how I solved the mystery, how I caught the culprit with my outstanding wits. It didn't feel that way this time. There was no pride. 

“The term itself is actually a broad definition, but simply it refers to brain disease, damage, and malfunctions...it has many causes. In some cases...like this...the cause can be uremic.” I looked at Doll Eyes’ forehead. How it was so smooth, untouched by wrinkles of worry or lines of age. 

“And what does that mean, Doc?”

My eyes finally drifted down to hers. Evangeline wasn't like my other patients. There wasn't a hopelessness or a pleading or some emotional need present. If anything, she willed me to spit the words out. To get it over with, like I was ripping off a bandaid. And there was something else there...something that was even colder than the AC vent, or the hospital itself…

I swallowed.

“Kidney failure.”

—*—

Peter leaned against the side of the door in an attempt to be casual, but his posture was too stiff. 

I swallowed, hoping I sounded gentle and healthy, “I'm not going anywhere. I'm just a little...overwhelmed. It's a lot to process.”

Quill nodded along. “Yeah...you know, maybe we could ask a friend of mine for help with this lead. Have a couple more hands on deck.” 

“Who were you thinking of?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author: Hi, Awesome Adventurers! Surprise! I find myself with a lot more time than I used to, so I thought I'd do some work on this book! Yay! 
> 
> Rocket: Yeah, a really happy hello back. What is this, a funeral? 
> 
> Author: Don't worry, we got some fun stuff planned next chapter. Thought we'd mix it up a little too and throw in some Doctor Strange POV! Speaking of fun stuff, we've been doing a TON of renovating with this series as a whole, lots of building and sectioning and adding extra cool stuff. I'm sorry for the chaos! I'm just trying to make this as fun as entertaining to you as possible, and I have the story down, it's just a way of presenting it to you. So if you have any suggestions or thoughts on the separation of books or chapters (I've thought of putting the sneak peaks in this book and taking them onto our first one, just making book one our sneak peak book, but idk, haven't decided anything yet), I'm all ears. You are the readers: what is the best setup for you? Anyways, like I said, I have the story down (you have no idea how far ahead I am with this baby—let's hope Wade doesn't spoil anything before we get to it), it's just a matter of getting it down. So we'll have more soon, still working on Avengers: Love and Lightning, too. Love, fortune and glory to you, hons! Thanks for your patience and gratitude, and stay safe c:


	10. Message

Readers,

I think I am going to stop publishing this series. When I started writing this, I was so excited to explore these characters and outlandish scenarios with you, but I feel as if no one is interested. I’ve barely heard from any of you, and I’m disappointed that no one has shown any engagement to the story. 

I understand that not every reader is inclined to be vocal, and it’s not a requirement. But the reason why writers share their stories on this wonderful site is to share their intricate masterpieces with others. I am going to continue to write this series, because writing is my passion and it gives me joy. But no one else seems to share this opinion about  _ The Collector’s Cosmic Romance Saga _ , so I will no longer be publishing it publically. I’ve even tried to make changes as to how the series is set up to make it more inviting, but I didn't hear from anyone. This story has become my number one writing project, and I am so obsessed and entranced with it and these amazing characters. I am just jumping out of my seat to write a romance with Thor, let alone a love triangle with Star-Lord. But it is depressing that no one has shown any appreciation to something that I really love. 

I am deeply disappointed. I have a lot of fun things planned, but no one seems interested. 

  
  



End file.
